cool whip cake (or: how to make the most out of baking in a heatwave)

this post is a bit overdue seeing as how it is now september, which means that new england goes into cardiac weather arrest and instantly turns chilly, but if your apartment is like mine, and cross-breeze is rather non-existent… this is still pretty relevant.

one of the (many) things that shocked me about moving to the north was the lack of air conditioning.  summer in the south may have seen significantly higher temperatures, but i was essentially just going from an air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned school. in the north, i go from a sticky, hot house to a sticky, hot subway to …well, at this point, generally an air-conditioned office building, so hallelujah.   but back in that un-air-conditioned apartment where the mere act of walking into a new room causes sweat to stream down my legs, baking is pretty much out of the question.

but because 3 months of not baking makes me sad (not to mention makes for a shitty blog…not that i actually updated at all in that time anyways…), i have tried to come up with ways to use the extra heat from the oven to my advantage.  this is what I have so far:

1. double your kitchen as a bikram hot yoga studio.
2. attempt to bake cookies on your window sill as a reinvention of the car window cookie baking trick.
3. use it to soften the seals on envelopes in order to open all of your roommates mail without them knowing it.
4. grab a towel and some cedar planks and imagine you are in a sweat lodge.
5. abduct some young children and create a literal sweat shop (ok, i admit that this one is weak).

if none of those options appeal to you, you can always try this recipe which actually involves no baking at all and for this reason, happens to be one of my favorites for the summer.  basically, you are just layering milk-soaked chocolate chip cookies and cool whip to get a light and refreshing trifle.

i originally got this recipe from a good friend when we vacationed on hilton head island after my freshman year of college.  just imagine four not-entirely-sober 19-year-olds (sorry, mom) running around sun-burnt in their underwear (sorry, dad) being complete idiots and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how that trip looked.  this simple treat was about all we were capable of producing at the time, other than lime wedges for tequila shots (clearly).  it will take you minutes to put together, and you won’t even break a sweat (ba dum cha)!

kiki momma’s cool whip cake

what you’ll need:
2-3 cartons of cool whip (cold, but not frozen!)
1 carton of pre-made chocolate chip cookies (go with crunchy cookies as they soak up the milk nicely)
milk

please note that i use all reduced fat and skim milk. that’s because i’m watching my figure you see… mmhmm…

1. dunk each cookie for about 10 seconds in the milk. layer on bottom of bowl.

2. layer cool whip on top of soaked cookies.

3. repeat. and repeat. and repeat. and repeat til you can repeat no mo.

4. here is where it is a matter of taste… i prefer this frozen, so i generally refrigerate it for a while so that the cookies have time to get mooshy, and then i throw it in the freezer.  if you want it to be more like a trifle, just refrigerate.

as you can see, this recipe should really only be tackled by those who are very confident in the kitchen. it is very difficult to make this.

another bonus of this cake? it also happens to be ridiculously easy to take to parties. ridiculous, i say.

mini apple pies (or: how to defy a 10-year-old girl)

notwithstanding the moral high ground i can take for visiting them,  there is something simply wonderful about the farmer’s market. tables piled high with vegetables, greens flowing out of baskets, men in dirty pants hawking their wares: i love it.  that is until i spot the turnips. turnips ruin everything. turnips bring up my latent 5th grade ptsd and remind me of the bitter taste of mean girl rejection. a taste that coincidentally happens to coincide with their actual taste…

for the majority of my adolescence, i was a total pushover. my mother still reminds me with shame of how one little girl conned me into coloring my entire deck with markers or how another girl convinced me to shout details about male anatomy (erm, specifically that my father was a male with said anatomy) in the center of my neighbor’s yard while standing on top of a fire hydrant like friggin’ Moses on his mountain top. honest-to-god, i would do pretty much anything you told me to do.

somehow i managed to develop a backbone once the 5th grade rolled around, which is lucky because if i hadn’t, my turnip issues would be more than an awkward eyes squinched “i remember you” type of encounter at the farmer’s market.  my bff had just replaced me with a new bff, as is the way with 10-year-old girls, and the three of us found ourselves one day attempting to color and sticker bookmarks together with limited success.  once it became clear that this game had lost its entertainment value, the two girls decided it was time to create a new club to which i had to prove my loyalty through a series of gross trials. the one that haunts me to this day involved a turnip.  essentially the girls dug the turnip up out of the garden and held its dirty root-y body up to me for my immediate consumption.  this doesn’t seem that horrific, but to a germaphobic kid who would only eat chicken fingers and mashed potatoes? this was a nightmare. you might have been able to convince me to shout things i barely comprehended in public places, but i drew the line at eating dirty vegetables.  they offered to soak it in coke to help it slide down. yeh, like that would make it better… around that point i panicked and sped off to the girl’s house where i made a furious call demanding my mother pick me up immediately. after a very awkward 30 minutes of waiting for her to stuff my little brother into a car so she could collect me, the girls declared that i could join the club on a probationary basis.  taking the high road, i …um… alright, fine,  i shrieked that i hated their stupid, stinkin’ club! nobody makes me eat turnips!

this incredibly lengthy story is all to say: somehow i manage to survive the near-turnip encounters and return to the farmer’s market each week to find other less acid-reflux inducing foods.  a recent trip left me with several bulging bags and pockets of apples with which to bake a pie.  i wanted to jazz up my go-to apple pie recipe by experimenting with crust flavors, but ended up getting bored of it half-way through the project… so instead i just made them adorably small in a muffin tin.  this recipe is simple and classic and very tasty.

what you’ll need:

pie dough

1.5 cups flour
1/8 tsp salt (for this we use our imagination to visualize)
8 tbsp unsalted butter
3-4 tbsp ice water

for the method, click here. two changes: disregard the bit about sugar, and instead of rolling the dough out immediately, you will need to refrigerate it for a minimum of 30 minutes. this gives the dough time to relax, which will make it easier to roll out. we do this because of gluten strands and crap like that.* it also helps if you pat the ball you have formed into a disc before ceran-wrapping and refrigerating.

now for the innards:

adapted from betty crocker’s scrumptious apple pie recipe

1/3 to 1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/8 tsp salt
5 cups finely diced tart apples (about 5 mediums) i like to use half granny smith and half red.
2 tbsp butter

1. in a large bowl, mix the sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.  stir in the apples until everything is well mixed.

2. preheat your oven to 425F, and extract your pie dough from the fridge.

3. spritz some muffin tins with pam. this may not actually be necessary, but there’s a time and a place for eating trapped baked goods directly from the tin with a spoon… and this wasn’t one of those times. so i erred on the side of caution.

4. roll out your dough until it is about a 12 inch round, probably about an 1/8th of an inch thick. cut out rounds to use as your pie bottoms. i used a glass cup for this as you can see.  this will be enough dough for 6 mini pies, so 6 tops and 6 bottoms.

5. place bottoms in pan and fill with apple mixture. add a little bit of butter on top (though i am pretty sure i forgot this step). then top with another dough round and smoosh** the two pieces of dough together.  cut an air hole in the top to let steam escape while baking.

you may notice at the end of this that you have more than enough apple mixture leftover to make another entire pie… yup.  this is because i was too lazy to cut it down to the appropriate size/try to figure out what 1/8th of a teaspoon reduced by 3 would be.  i realize in retrospect that i could have just winged it, but i was feeling very intense about exact measurements when i was making this.  just go buy some pilsbury pie dough and make another pie… pretend you made the whole thing from scratch and call it a day.  or… eat the mixture with a spoon and tell yourself you are being healthy by getting your fruit serving for the day.

6. place in the oven. bake until it’s done.  the recipe says 40-50, but that is for a 9-inch pie… so it will be less than that.  just keep an eye on it.  if it’s black, it’s done….***

if you're a slob like me, they'll look somethin' like this when done.

* i admit that i wrote that so you would think i am smart.
** technical baking term
*** actual advice received in culinary school.

Tags: apple pie, baking, food, recipe

baby tiny chocolate chip cookies (or: my love/hate affair with snow)

as a kid, you never expect that the things that are so life-shatteringly important to you at the time  will one day no longer matter. my ambition to marry prince william and become a princess for instance.  and for another, my constant and obsessive desire for snow. living in boston has gradually ruined snow for me …while prince william gradually aging ruined that little love affair for me… but more seriously, in my youth, snow represented the pinnacle of happiness. throughout december, i would perform elaborate snow dances involving a number of props and rhythmic chants. i was so committed that i would practice for snow by “sledding” down wet grass on a broken down cardboard box.  never in my life did i think the joy of snow would leave me. i mean, hell, i spent over half my life desperately beseeching nature for just a glimmer of it.

but as the old proverb says, when it rains it pours, and for boston, so it seems, when it snows it blizzards. 7 and a half years of freezing snot, brown 6-month-old snow refusing to melt, and hours of shoveling out my car just to have a plow re-trap it moments later… the magic has been decidedly snuffed out.

despite my whining and complaining, i can’t deny that in the first few hours when the world is still white and untouched, the childhood joy comes flooding back.  (probably a result of some serious mental blocking from the previous year’s traumas.)  and should work call a snow day? heavenly… you know, until the shoveling begins and all. but i’ll be glossing over that little factor when i text a multitude of photos to my brother in georgia (who only knows the joys of snow that melts after a day and is therefore not jaded like myself) so he is properly harassed and sent into a fit of depression.

…and then proceed to frolic until i’m numb. clearly. this particular snow day necessitated a lot of frolicking…once my roommates and i had played till our collective heart’s content, by which i mean, we could no longer feel most of our limbs, it was decided that nothing could perfect this day like a plate of cookies and a steaming mug of hot chocolate…because we are adorable and slightly cliche that way.  plus, unlike prince william and snow, chocolate chip cookies are never in danger of going out of style.

mini chocolate chip cookies: (a la ww)

what you’ll need:
2 tbsp butter, softened
2 tsp canola oil
1/2 cup packed brown sugar, dark-variety
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/8 tsp table salt
1 large egg white
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp baking soda (not pictured…woops)
3 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips, about 1/2 cup

1. preheat oven to 375ºf.

2. in a medium bowl, cream together the butter, oil, and sugar. add vanilla, salt, and an egg white. mix thoroughly to combine.

3. in a small bowl, mix together the flour and baking soda. mix in with the bowl of wet ingredients. add chocolate chips to the batter, and stir to distribute evenly.

around this point, you may notice that there is practically no dough whatsoever. i would have been surprised if it made 5 cookies, not to mention the serving size of 48.  looks like i had neglected to realize that by “mini,” they meant “practically invisible to the naked eye.”

i figured i should do some to-scale illustrations to really drive the point home.  what we have here is a recommended dough blob size that ends up being bigger than a nickel, yet smaller than a johnny cupcakes pin.

4. if you have recovered from the shock, proceed to drop 48 half-teaspoons of dough onto a large nonstick baking sheet leaving a small amount of space between each cookie. as you can see, i whipped out the big guns, aka toothpicks, to get these suckers out. more shocking than even the initial shock is that i managed to get 56 cookies from this. (guh!?)

5. bake cookies until golden around edges (about 4 to 6 minutes). cool on a wire rack.

beware: these baby tinies are highly addictive. when i normally could contain myself to one regular sized cookie (alright, fine, 3…but i’m just making sure they are safe), i found myself popping these bad boys like it was job.  20 mini cookies later…and my distended stomach was rather un-mini.

Tags: baking, chocolate chip cookies, recipes, weight watchers

pumpkin feta muffins (or: the perils of hype)

hype is the absolute worst. nothing can ever live up to it and you are almost always bound to be left disappointed in its wake.  in an effort to battle the inevitable letdown, i always try to downplay and oftentimes downright demean that which i am most excited about.

unfortunately there are always those things that manage to slip through the cracks of my tightly run degradation determined ship. like new years eve. with the possible exception of this year in which i exerted considerable effort, every nye i expect the world to shatter from the sheer epic force of that night. i put so much pressure on myself to make the previous year go out with such a glorious bang that the night is almost always exceptionally lame and i end up spending the entire next day melodramatically dressed entirely in black determined to manifest my depression over the futility of it all.

first dates can also be an exercise in over-hype.  one night i met a guy in a bar (let’s call him shlomo) and under the influence of booze and fashion-shielding beer goggles (his ensemble was shockingly similar to that of mario lopez circa 2007) i gave him my number. two months of texting and scheduling conflicts later, shlomo and i finally manage to meet up.  i couldn’t remember what he looked like and was fairly certain i wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a line up, but it was pretty thrilling to finally reach this point. thanks to my lovely, and oh so-endearing girl brain, i had managed to really build this up. but two months of anticipation can do that to a girl.  naturally, the date was a total bust.  its unfortunate that he wasn’t mario lopez as then we might have had something in common, namely our love for 80s muscle tees and picking on dustin diamond.

per usual, despite my attempts to be super chill, when i first saw these muffins on 101 cookbooks, i was absolutely beside myself.  just ask my officemate, he can attest.  i was waxing romantic and salivating simultaneously. i thought that these would be god’s gift to muffins. one day i would lure men into my lair like a siren with these muffins. i would move mountains with these muffins. (when i wax romantic, i really was romantic.)

so when preparing a menu for my exciting annual maryland trip with my hlm, these were clearly on the list. highlighted and underlined. much to my dismay, they were just…alright. palatable for sure, but not the taste equivalent of heaven on earth like i had anticipated. so when and if you make these, i suggest you don’t preface the occasion with visions of yourself riding astride a silk-covered elephant as a muffin-bearing goddess like myself. try tempering your expectations with some dramatic “meh”s and “ho-hum”s.

and with that thought in mind… feta pumpkin muffins:

what you’ll need:
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups pumpkin
salt and pepper
1 large handful of baby spinach, chopped
2 tbs chopped parsley
3 tbs sunflower seed kernels
3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1/2 cup cubed feta
2 tsp whole-grain mustard
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup milk
2 cups flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp fine-grain sea salt

1. preheat oven to 405 f with rack in the top third. grease a 12-hole muffin pan with the butter and set aside.

(public service announcement: do not drink and cube.)

2. cube pumpkin. after much consternation and knife stickage (despite aggressive “high-YA”-ing), i opted to slice wedges out of the pumpkin and cube after roasting. either way, sprinkle olive oil and some salt and pepper over the squash. toss well and arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet/roasting pan and bake for 15 – 25 minutes or until cooked through entirely. allow it to cool.

3. transfer 2/3 of the squash to a large mixing bowl along with the spinach, parsley, sunflower seeds, parmesan, 2/3 of the feta, and all of the mustard. gently fold together.

4. in a separate bowl, beat the eggs and milk together. add to the squash mixture.

5. next, sift the flour and baking powder onto the squash mixture.  top with the tsp of salt and a generous dose of freshly ground black pepper. fold together just until the batter comes together, being careful not to over mix.

6. fill each muffin tin hole about 3/4 full and then top each with a bit of the remaining squash and feta. bake for 15-20 minutes or until the tops and sides of the muffins are golden, and the muffins have set up completely. let cool for a couple minutes, and then turn out onto a cooling rack.

makes 12 muffins.

despite my (once again) melodramatic grumblings about hype (it is still too close to the first to shake it entirely), these muffins were good. i just prefer a lot more jazz to my baked goods…. and for that matter salt to my savory. if you are more into blander stuff, you will be into these.  they have a kick every once in awhile when you bite into the feta without being over the top.  i also suggest you warm them up a bit before eating.

Tags: baking, cooking, feta, food, muffins, pumpkin, pumpkin feta muffins, recipe

cinnamon apple chips (or: a lesson on fall)

i love the fall. so much so that we’re lucky it isn’t a tangible, living thing as i’d most likely snuggle it right to death.  fall means colorful leaves fluttering in the wind, winter squash looking strange and oddly shaped, pumpkins ripe for the carving, apples ready to be picked and baked, hair that doesn’t quadruple in size the moment i walk outside. just color and loveliness all around.

though the falls in the north differ considerably from the falls of my youth (50/60 degrees as opposed to 70, sweaters rather than a long sleeve t, indoor pumpkin carving instead of outdoor pumpkin carving), i’ve managed to adapt (though not without considerable bitching and moaning).

i’ll never forget my first fall in new england as a confused little 18-year-old.  it was early october and i remember feeling so cold that i thought i would die. i piled on all of my winter accessories, tied on my hiking boots (which bizarrely enough had been all the rage at my high school… most likely a result of all that treacherous linoleum we were forced to traverse every day), and proceeded to weep tears of terror (which i also seem to remember froze on my face). j, who lived down the hall from me, looked me over with such pity and informed me that we had barely hit fall and that soon i would be so cold even my teeth would freeze. i wasn’t entirely sure how one’s teeth froze, but i knew i did not want to find out.  unfortunately, i was already the weird girl on my hall who spent a bit too much time watching taped tv shows while slurping down ramen noodles, so walking around in 60 degree weather wearing long johns and a scarf around my face really didn’t help my already floundering reputation.

these days i do my best to cut back on the early-onset winter wear and try to acclimate myself slowly to the increasing chill through a number of outdoor activities, my favorite being apple picking. not only is it ridiculously fun leaping in the air to try and pick out-of-reach apples, but it is also so much more rewarding to bake appley things knowing i yanked them out of the tree myself (and by yanked, i mean carefully twisted it off using both hands… ahem, apologizes cider hill farm).

every year i have the best of intentions when it comes to post-picking baking, annnd i almost always totally wimp out.  this year was no exception. rather than some deluxe, glamorous pie like i may have promised certain persons (eep), i opted for apple chips. the boiling process can be somewhat time consuming, but overall there is not much effort required.  you can happily prepare these and sip spiked cider simultaneously. though, because there are sharp knives involved, i would suggest waiting to realllly get started on that side of things until after the apples have been sliced…

cinnamon apple chips

what you’ll need:
2 cups unsweetened apple juice (i used 1 cup cider/1 cup water)
1 cinnamon stick
2 red delicious apples (or in my case, whichever sort you happened to have   haphazardly picked)

1. in a large skillet or pot (preferably something wide), combine the apple juice and cinnamon stick. bring to a low boil.

…meanwhile… if you happened to use apple cider, you might find a little sticker like the one above. unfortunately, i discovered this AFTER drinking the majority of the container… i’m not actually a child, or elderly, or suffer from a weakened immune system, but this did wonders for my already wildly out-of-control hypochondria nonetheless.

2. with a sharp knife (and i emphasize sharp as it will make your life so much easier… assuming you aren’t hopped up on the cider and chop off a finger), slice off half an inch from the top and bottom of the apples and discard.

3. slice into very thin rings (about 1/8th of an inch thick). note that the thinner your slices are, the crispier and more chip-like they will turn out. the thicker ones will stay slightly chewy and be more like dried fruit.

4. drop apple slices into the boiling juice and cook for 4-5 minutes or until the slices appear translucent and lightly golden. if your slices are on the thick side, then this will take a bit longer.

5. with a slotted spatula, remove the apple slices and pat them dry. arrange on a cooling rack, making sure that none overlap.

6. bake at 250 degrees f for 30-40 minutes. the apple slices should be lightly browned and almost dry to the touch. let the chips cool on the racks completely before storing in an airtight container.  enjoy!

Tags: apple, baking, cider, cinnamon apple chips, recipe

goat cheese scallion biscuits (or: i win most gullible of the year)

i’ve always been a bit too trusting.  for instance, as an innocent little second grader, i trusted that by closing the door to the bathroom this meant i was assured privacy as i went about my business.  poor, naive kelley. one particularly traumatic day, it took not 10 seconds after i dropped my pants for a boy, whose name i still mutter in anger to this day, to walk in on me. so there i am, mid-pee, stirrup-pants around my ankles, with the door wide-open as he-whose-name-i’m-bizarrely-protecting openly stared with a bug-eyed look something akin to rodney dangerfield’s. of course, compounding my humiliation was the fact that this was an in-classroom bathroom and my entire class was sitting right outside preparing for storytime. not once have i peed comfortably in public since that fateful day.

when i was 12, i trusted that my friend’s parents weren’t lying when they told me that cigars didn’t contain tobacco and were completely safe to smoke. (they were in the process of “quitting” and didn’t appreciate my friend and i pointing out that they didn’t seem to be doing a particularly stellar job at it.)  fast forward 12 years when i am at a bachelor party (yeh, you read that right) and taking my faux-manliness pretty damn seriously, if i say so myself, and decide to get in on the cigar action. because why the hell not? i’m in mantown.  and it’s not like there is any tobacco in there that can give me lung cancer and kill me, right?  (don’t worry tho, like bill, i never inhaled.) a couple weeks later, i was out to dinner with a friend describing my mancapades and trying to sound much cooler than i actually am.  it was at the point in the story when i was saying something along the lines of “yeh, i was pretty hot shit smoking that cigar in a savannah back alley, but there’s no tobacco in those things, so no bigs,”  that he started laughing in my face.  being a seasoned smoker himself, he felt compelled to correct my misconception.  annnd i’ve never felt like such a friggin’ tool.  what’s that on the ceiling? gullible? oh yeh, hilarious.

so now, here i am in 2010, and you would think i would have learned from my past mistakes. you would think that i would be older and wiser. you would think that i would have hardened into an untrusting lump of you-know-what. but no, once again i fell prey to my ingrained need to trust. as i read through one of the recipes i inherited from a baking course i took in the spring, i trusted that by being an official, paid-for program, the recipes would be correct.  alas, no such luck. please witness, exhibit a:

1.5 cups of liquid to 2 cups flour seemed a bit like overkill, but who am i to question my superiors? surely they are infinitely older and wiser… and capable of correcting typos. but several choice curses later, some rather soggy hands, and a couple dumps of flour, i made a complete failure of trying to correct this mistake. i ended up scraping the first batch (after making a friend suffer through a taste test), and made another go with different liquid measurements.  below is what you should actually do…you can trust me…maybe.

goat cheese scallion biscuits:

what you’ll need:
2 cups flour
2 tbsp baking powder
6 oz. goat cheese
4 tbsp cold butter
1/2 cup (maybe a bit more) light cream
1/2 bunch scallions, cleaned and chopped
1/4 tsp black pepper

1. combine the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl. cut in the butter until the mixture is coarse and crumbly. cut in the goat cheese and scallions. if you are having trouble with a pastry cutter (please cut eyes to the right), try using two knives.

2.add cream and knead lightly, just enough to mix everything together. don’t overwork the dough or else your biscuits will get tough…which is great for overly trusting personalities (ahem), but not biscuits. this also happens to be the step that destroyed my first go at this recipe.  i attempted to compensate for the overabundance of liquid by adding more flour and a bit of baking powder all willy-nilly-like. the result was an absurdly floury biscuit. not delectable.  round 2, i added 1/2 cup of cream to see how it looked, realized i needed a smidge more, grabbed the extra cream from the fridge, and then discovered it was frozen solid. so…that was awesome. instead i added a pinch of milk.

3. turn out the dough onto a floured work surface (i tend to go for the kitchen counter, which for some reason always makes me laugh. probably because i am imagining my mother’s look of horror). press dough out into an even layer 3/4-inch high.

 

4. using a floured biscuit cutter 2-inches in diameter, cut out biscuits and place on a buttered baking sheet.  (i actually just now realized it was supposed to be a floured biscuit cutter…thaaat would have helped.  i’m not sure if you notice above, but my first round was an utter disaster.)

5. bake biscuits at 400 degrees f for about 12 minutes, or until golden brown.

…and here’s hoping you had better luck then me.

xoxo,
biscuit ruiner of the year

Tags: baking, biscuits, goat cheese, goat cheese scallion biscuits, recipe, scallions

pecan-cappuccino biscotti (or: a love song to that which i hate)

something about biscotti just rubs me the wrong way. could it be its rock hardness or its impossible to chewness?  or perhaps the fact that every time i crunch down on one i feel like a beaver gnawing on a hunk of sweet flavored wood?  one day i will crack a tooth–i just know it.  i will bite down, hoping upon hope that this time it will be different, this time the rock will give way to cookie, but instead a large “craccck” will sound and my tooth will split in two. i will raise my fist in consternation, adapting my best angry grandpa face, and shake with a fury generally reserved for delinquent children running through flower beds and dogs pooping in yards.  my voice will magically age 60 years as i warble out a string of choice curses.

apart from my fear of a toothless future, biscotti just annoys me on principle. because as we all know, it is perfectly appropriate, and might i add the american way, to hate that which we dont understand.  biscotti, i hate you, because i dont understand you.  and im okay with that.  but no, really, why were you created?

now, dont get all biscotti-activist on me.  dont try to tell me it is lovely for dunking or is great for sharpening your teeth.  biscotti is not the only victim to fall prey to my irrational distaste.  it has plenty of company.  for instance, weve got:

1. ketchup: it coagulates, it splurts out with aggression, it attaches to your flesh and then you smell like it for the rest of your life.

2. the pet name “baby”: shudder. a thousand times shudder. apologies (sort of, not really) to those of you who fall in this category… but it feels way too humbert humbert.  yeh, i said it.

3. going to restaurants between 3-5 pm:  there is no one else there, wait staff stare at you and wonder why you had to interrupt their break (maybe that was just me?), and it is just a weird timeframe to publicly eat.

now that i have described my feelings to such an extent, you might be wondering why on earth i would have baked and therefore subjected myself to the displeasure of a rock in cookie-disguise.  this is because i am convinced that i can train myself to like anything with enough mental fortitude– the exceptions of course being the 3 things listed above, and anyone who suggests that david blaine is better than david copperfield.  also, i happened to have all of the ingredients in my pantry at the time, and i am all about convenience…so, ya know, there’s that.

pecan-cappuccino biscotti
from weight watchers: mix it, match it

what you’ll need:
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsps instant espresso powder
2 tsps cinnamon
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup coarsely chopped pecans

1. preheat oven to 350 degrees f. line a baking sheet with foil and spray lightly with nonstick spray.

2. sift flour, cocoa, espresso, cinnamon, baking powder, and salt into a bowl. (here it is perfectly appropriate to sing that shake, shake, shake senora song from beetlejuice.)

3. whisk together the sugar, egg, and vanilla in another bowl.

4. add this to the flour mixture and stir until a dough forms. fold in pecans.

5. gather the dough with lightly floured hands and transfer to a lightly floured surface. roll into a log about 2 inches in diameter and 8 inches long. transfer your newly created log to the baking sheet and flatten gently until it is about 3/4 inch high. bake until firm to the touch, 20-25 mins.

4. transfer the log to a cutting board and cool for about 5 mins. with a serrated knife, cut into 12 1/4-inch slices. arrange these slices on the baking sheet.

5. reduce oven temperature to 300 degrees f. bake the biscotti for 10 mins, then turn over and bake until dried and slightly crisp (about 10 mins longer). transfer to a rack and cool completely. the biscotti will continue to dry out as they cool.

for those calorie counting, 1 biscotti is 94 cal or 2 ww points.

if you are looking for an adult chew toy, you can’t go wrong with this biscotti. i imagine if one actually liked biscotti, these would be quite enjoyable. the espresso really does give it a nice flavor.  they are on the small side however, which shocked me a bit since the photo in the cookbook made them appear giant… but honestly, the lengthy gnawing makes it take longer to eat anyways so they seem pretty large.  i can’t deny that i do appreciate food that tricks me into thinking i am getting more bang for my buck.

black midnight cake (or: how many times can i use the word romantic in one post?)

as soon as i saw this recipe, i knew i had to make it. the worn clipping was tucked in my mom’s recipe book, neatly typed out via typewriter, and trimmed down to a perfect little 3×5. the antiquated look, the name–black midnight cake–immediately my head was flooded with images of hot, sticky southern nights…unnaturally still waters reflecting the distant moon and stars… a pair of young lovers meeting in secret with only the cicadas and fireflies to bear witness to their indiscretions…  something about “black midnight” makes me feel overly romantic bordering on the nonsensical.  then again, i’ve always leaned toward hopeless romantic.

growing up, my mother always told me that “all is fair in love and war–right up until the altar.” i blame this advice for some of my more dramatic fantasies…and realities. my mom similarly fell prey to the idealism of love conquering all, and in this vein pursued my father with a reckless air of “oh, what the hell.” they met at a wedding, exchanged addresses (oh the days before the internet & cell phones), and once my mom returned home some 1,000 miles away, she decided based on the wisdom of the aforementioned saying that it couldn’t hurt to send a letter. and thus began the long-distance, hand-written courtship of my parents.  my heart breaks from the over-exertion of abundant sighing. if this is my reaction just from thinking about letters, imagine my brain high on black midnight cake!

modern-day romance seems so much less sigh-inducing in comparison to the days of yore. there are too many online dating sites and methods of communication. texting, emailing, iming, facebook messaging, facebook wall-posting– it makes my head spin. sure, the email might be the letter of the 21st century, but there is still something so much more romantic and idealistic about the act of putting pen to paper. i met a guy at a bar once who gave me his full name and network so i could later find him on facebook… yikes. i mean, i didn’t expect some quill-to-parchment action here, let’s be realistic, but honestly, a phone number exchange would have sufficed. curses 21st century!

but back to the black midnight cake. to my utter disappointment, it ended up being a bit like modern-day romance– a little meh. the title overpowered my overly romantic mind and belied the fact that it was preeeetty much just a chocolate cake. a tasty chocolate cake, but just a chocolate cake all the same.  i was expecting the flavors to be making sweet, sweet love on my tongue.  instead they politely introduced themselves to my taste buds, hung out for a second, and then moved on.  a nice memory… but forgettable.

but despite all of this, I shall attempt to harness the magic the name first conjured… i’ll just light a few candles, dim the lights, slice up a bit of this cake, and perhaps check the computer to see which men the online algorithms have conjured up.  ah, modern-day romance… i guess you’ve got to take what you can get.

black midnight cake:

what you’ll need:
2/3 cup shortening
1 2/3 cups sugar
3 eggs
2 1/4 cups flour (sifted)
2/3 cup cocoa
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 1/3 cups water
1 tsp vanilla

1. beat the shortening, sugar, and eggs for 5 min at high speed. (also, how absolutely amazing is this mixer?  for starters, i don’t have to hold it other than for the initial helping hand to get it to start spinning. for seconds, i don’t have to hold it. for thirds… i don’t have to hold it.  did i mention i don’t have to hold it?)

2. sift together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking  soda, and salt. (when i can’t find a sifter…like in my parents house… mooooom… i find that a mesh/small-holed (?) strainer works better than nothing. eventhough it may seem unnecesary to sift, it really does make the cake a lot fluffier and therefore lovelier.)

3. mix dry ingredients  and then a combination of water and vanilla in alternately with the sugar/shortening mixture.

4. pour into 2 9-inch layer pans or 1 13×9-inch oblong pan (greased and floured).

5. bake at 350 degrees for 35 mins if layers, 40 to 45 if oblong.

milk chocolate icing: (if you like a lot of icing like me, i would suggest doubling the recipe. i stuck to it as written, but felt like there just wasn’t enough.)

what you’ll need:
1/3 cup shortening
1/2 cup cocoa
3 cups confectioner’s sugar (sifted)
1/2 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla

1. melt together the shortening and cocoa.

2. stir in confectioner’s sugar, hot scalded milk, and vanilla. make sure to make a giant mess, esp if you are in your mother’s kitchen and she is anal retentive about keeping everything impeccably clean.

3. place the pan in ice water, and beat until a spreadable consistency  (about 3 to 5 mins).

according to the recipe creator another option is to add a few drops of peppermint flavoring.

now, i did not have a flat cake stand on hand for icing the cake so we tried to minimize the mayhem by putting wax paper under the cake, which we later slid out from under it. this definitely helped keep the pretty cake stand clean, though it made icing the cake a smidge tricksy. also notice that i did not slice off the tops to make the cake flat… this is because i am lazy. but, i guess we could pretend that i was going for a rustic feel?

(this would probably be more dramatic if photographed during a black midnight.)

oatmeal crispies (or: how to bag yourself a cowboy; or: how baking prevented my implosion)

trying to figure out what to do with your life can be the absolute pits. lease-ending season always gets me unbelievably freaked out–to the point where i feel like im being buried alive, clawing at the coffin lid, wishing i were in the 1800s so i could grab a little bell string bringing someone to my rescue. (i have an overactive imagination, so my fantasies and nightmares tend to be on the lengthy, detail-oriented side. i also tend to frequently wish i lived in the 19th century for reasons unknown even to myself.) lately i’ve been somewhat of a mess. there are just too many choices and decisions to be made. who knew that when our past generations were paving the way for equality and the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be that they were creating ungrateful jerks like me who now wish there weren’t so many choices available. come on, 19th century. 2 choices: married or spinster. not much room for lengthy contemplation.

after listening to me whine and moan to the point of ear-bleeding, my hetero-lifemate suggested i try focusing on the things that make me happy and find something relaxing to do. after briefly contemplating going for a run in the great outdoors, and then remembering the fact that this tends to nearly kill me from over-pollenation and leave me wheezing for hours afterward, i realized that what really calms me down is baking. clearly. hence the blog. i decided to bake something from the pioneer woman cookbook, since she has actually managed to accomplish one of my life goals, namely, to marry a cowboy. and if she can do it, i can do it. right? there we go. choice number one–made.  these cookies are apparently her husband’s favorite, so i’m hoping they will help me catch myself a cowboy of my own.  there don’t seem to be that many roaming around boston, but maybe if i hit up that line dancing bar in manchester, i can at least find myself a seriously old dude who likes to dress up in cowboy hats. then i could work on life goal number 2: become some seriously old dude’s sugar baby.

in the meantime, there is one new man in my life:

this is olaf. he is my beta fish. i’ve been talking about buying a fish for about 4 years or so now, so it’s a pretty big deal that i finally went and saved him from his tiny cup prison at petsmart. (huh, look at that. i made another choice.) olaf happens to be a very recalcitrant beta fish, and therefore never comes when i call him and always refuses to wag his fins on command. he also likes to spontaneously go on hunger strikes to oppose various potential name choices (like darnell.. he hated the name darnell) and whenever i shield his bowl to keep him from creepily watching me (im preeeetty sure he was a perv in a past life). but he’s fun. sometimes he tries to leap from his bowl and bite me, which isn’t fun, and i’m half-convinced that one day he will turn into a dreaded snakefish and climb from his bowl and slither around my room and strangle me in my sleep, which also isn’t fun, but i’m sure we will get over this rough patch soon enough and live blissfully for the rest of time or at least until i implode from too many life decisions.

but in an effort to stave off the implosion, it is time for some relaxation and, let’s not forget, cowboy bait.

oatmeal crispies a la pioneer woman:
(note: the original recipe doubles the ingredients below. i was working with limited supplies and only had enough oats for half the recipe, so what follows is my alteration.)

what you’ll need:
1/4 cup pecan halves
1/2 cup shortening
1/2 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 cups rolled oats
liberal amt of chocolate

1. finely chop pecans and set aside. at one point in time, i used to chop each pecan individually.  then i discovered julia child and her knife wielding/chop-chopping. i now massacre many pecans all at once. much more efficient.  this also gives me less opportunity to eat the pecans as i chop. (ha! who am i kidding. i have to buy an extra bag for the snacking.)

2. in a large mixing bowl, combine the shortening and the sugars.  beat together until combined.

3. lightly beat the egg and vanilla in a separate bowl.

4. add the egg mixture to the sugar/shortening mixture. beat until combined.

5. in a separate bowl, combine the flour, salt, and baking soda. stir it up.  add to the egg/sugar mixture and stir some more/until combined.

6. toss in the oats and pecans and stir to combine.

7. dump in a large quantity of chocolate chips. however many will make you happy. for me… that is mucho de chocolat.  you should also take this opportunity to admire my matchy-matchiness and no, i did not do this on purpose.

8. place dough on a sheet of waxed paper and form into a roll about 1 1/2 inches in diameter. you can now wrap the waxed paper tightly around the roll and chill until you are ready to use. (i failed miserably at tightly wrapping the roll, so i won’t even disgrace this blog with a photo of it.) the roll can be refrigerated up to a week or frozen for up to 3 months.  i chilled the roll while cleaning my dishes with the idea that this would make slicing easier, but i ended up washing like a speed demon since i wanted my cookies asap. it is amazing how quickly i can get things done when cookies are on the line.

9. preheat oven to 350 degrees f. unwrap dough from waxed paper and slice into 1/2 inch thick slices.

10. place the rounds on a cookie sheet and bake for 10 minutes or until light golden brown. using a spatula, remove the cookies from the sheet immediately. (i thought i was too good for a spatula and tried to remove with my hands resulting in a cookie missing its innards. needless-to-say… i grabbed a spatula for the rest.)

11. fin. eat. enjoy. bask in the glow of oozy chocolate and joy of knowing your innards are still intact unlike that poor cookie. grab some rope and wrangle a cowboy/old man pretending to be a cowboy (cowman?).

ps- today is my father’s birthday. happy birthday dadder!

cinnamon rolls (or: how to find yourself stuck in a time warp)

something about eating breakfast for dinner always makes me feel a bit mischievous.  it is that same feeling i got the first time i realized i was really living on my own, supporting myself, and that i could do anything i wanted. i could buy a ticket to hawaii and just go– i didn’t even have to ask my parents first! out-of-order eating turns into a mini rebellion, a little mark of my freedom and adulthood. no more of that “don’t eat that cookie, it will spoil your dinner” oppression i faced as a child, because guess what?  maybe this cookie is my dinner, and that soup? my dessert!  i can do that. im just that wild and carefree. i am that grown up.  now when i go home to visit my parents and they give me grief about pre-dinner snacking, i chuckle to myself, “ooo silly parents.  if only you knew the trouble i get into with my free-wheelin’ eating schedule.”  it would burst their delicate perfectly-timed-meal sensibilities to pieces.

the story of these cinnamon rolls however is not one of mischievous out-of-order eating.  well, it is, but not intentionally.  these cinnamon rolls were actually intended to be the main course for a romantical brunch i planned with my hetero-life partner nic, but ended up taking so gd long to make they ended up being a pre-dinner snack.  i had no idea these warm, gooey, sumptuous, eyes-closed-from-the-sweet-sinful-delight-of-them treats were such a bitch to prepare. blasted cooking light! you made it seem so easy with your meager half-page recipe length! fellow bakers, learn from my mistake: read the entire recipe before beginning, figure out how much time it will take, and then double that time (perhaps triple).   i am often convinced that i am stuck in some sort of time warp as it always seems to take me at least twice as long as a recipe says to produce anything.

now, once you have gotten over the stress of making them, there is something so comforting about cinnamon rolls.  the layers of soft, flaky dough flecked with cinnamon sugar and topped with a warm, dripping glaze.  i can feel the inner warmth spreading  just thinking about them.   in retrospect, it makes sense that i would choose to make something with such positive, cozy feelings attached to it when vacationing in my favorite spot– my grandfather’s house, or the old homestead as i like to think of it.  it is a beautiful yellow victorian on the eastern shore of maryland, literally in the middle of nowhere, chock-full of family history, and i’m pretty sure quite a few family ghosts.  (at least i had kinship and wafting cinnamon rolly scents on my side to keep them at bay.)  just being in that house makes me ridiculously happy and feel a sense of calm that is way too often lacking in my day-to-day life. thank goodness my timing blunder took place in this environment where i was incredibly sedate, or lord only knows how crazy i might have gotten when the sun set without my rolls yet complete.

but enough of the sentimental clap-trap… on to the recipe, so you, too, can spend a day salivating over the longest cinnamon roll process on the planet.

cinnamon rolls: (from cooking light magazine)

what you’ll need: 
1 cup warm fat-free milk (100° to 110°)
6 tbsp melted butter, divided
1/3 cup granulated sugar, divided
1 package quick-rise yeast
16.88 ounces all-purpose flour (about 3 ¾ cups)
1 large egg, lightly beaten
¼ tsp salt
cooking spray
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 ½ tbsp ground cinnamon

1. combine milk, 3 tbsp melted butter, 1 tbsp sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. let it stand for 5 mins. weigh or lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups.  add egg and remaining sugar to bowl. stir in 4.5 ounces (1 cup) flour. let it stand for 10 mins.

2. add 11.25 ounces (about 2 1/2 cups) flour and salt to milk mixture. stir until a soft dough forms.  the dough will be sticky… and nearly impossible to remove from your hands. (this will result in a lot of hilarity, not to mention a very serious case of the dreaded dough hands.) turn out onto a lightly floured surface. knead until smooth and elastic (about 6 minutes). add enough of the remaining flour, 1 tbsp at a time, to prevent dough from sticking to hands (…ha, good luck).

3. place dough in a large bowl coated with cooking spray; turn the dough to coat the top. cover and let it rise in a warm place (85°), free from drafts, 35 mins on until it doubles in size. (now unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out how to get the heat to work in this bloomin’ house. i blame my father and his fancy heating system… and all those switches… and the creepy basement.  finding a warm place was next to impossible, so we improvised and put the oven on low and then stuck the bowl o’ dough on top of it. you really shouldn’t follow my example on this one as this apparently warms the dough unevenly and makes things a bit wonky, but it did suffice so i’m not complaining.)

4. after 35 minutes, check the dough. gently press two fingers into the dough. if the indentation remains, the dough has risen enough and we may proceed to the next step… which is to take your aggression out on your poor innocent dough and punch it.  really teach that dough who is boss.

once you have beaten it into submission (and it is cowering in fear), cover it back up and let it rise for another 35 mins or until it has doubled in size.  punch the dough again (because you are a sadistic beast of a baker); cover and let it rise another 5 mins.

5. combine brown sugar and cinnamon. turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface; roll dough into an 18 x 11-inch rectangle. (as you can see, we did not have a rolling-pin.  luckily we did have the fortitude necessary to polish off this bottle of wine, which substituted nicely.) brush remaining 3 tbsp of the melted butter over the dough. (applaud yourself if you still have the remaining melted butter sitting around rather than having accidently washed it along with all the dirty dishes that were starting to threaten your safety.) sprinkle dough evenly with brown sugar mixture. beginning at one of the long sides, roll the dough tightly, and then pinch the seam to seal. (but do not seal the ends of the roll. that would just be silly.)

6. cut dough into 18 1-inch slices. arrange 9 slices, cut sides up, in each of 2 8-inch square baking dishes coated with cooking spray. cover and let rise for 35 mins or until doubled in size.  (hope you had nowhere to be. all. day. long.)

7. preheat oven to 350°.

8. uncover rolls and bake for 22 mins or until lightly browned. cool for 10 mins in dishes on wire racks. turn the rolls out onto the wire racks and cool another 5 mins. turn the rolls over.

icing:

what you’ll need:
3 tbsp butter, softened
2 tbsp heavy cream
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup powdered sugar

1. combine softened butter and cream. stir with a whisk. stir in vanilla. gradually add powdered sugar and stir until blended.

2. spread the icing over the rolls; serve warm.

it may take you the better part of your day year life to make these, but don’t the figurative “they” say the best things come to those who wait?